


The Death Eater's Daughter

by AnonAnton



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clubbing, Death Eaters, F/M, Goths, Harry Potter Universe, Memory Loss, Metamorphmagus, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Sexual Content, Spells & Enchantments, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter), Wands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 01:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6683905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonAnton/pseuds/AnonAnton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waking up, falling to the floor with no memory, a women goes on a journey to not only rediscover her identity and her past, but to set her future.</p>
<p>An all original character short story set in the Harry Potter universe in the present day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Death Eater's Daughter

There was a strange 'pop' noise, and she felt her self crumple in to a heap on the floor, her knees buckling beneath her. She had that strange feeling where you are aware time has passed, but you know you have not been conscious. As if she had been asleep, but far more prolonged. She frowned up at the ceiling, trying to summon the energy to get up. There was just a black hole where memory ought to be.

 

She groaned and rolled on to her side. All around her was filth, dead leaves, dust, twigs, all lit in the golden red light of sun down. The detritus smelled old and dry. There was a light, cool breeze touching her face. The sky through a broken window a cold clear blue.

 

Juliet crawled up in to a sitting position. She fumbled at her hip, in her pocket. Something was poking her belly. She extracted a long stick, smooth and silky, warm to the touch. Something about it felt good. She didn't want to put it down.

 

Wait, she thought, Juliet? Juliet. That was her name. Well that's a start, she smiled wryly to herself before clambering to her feet.

 

She put the stick back in her pocket and took in her surroundings. Dilapidated room, wooden floor, broken windows, smashed furniture, weird scorch marks across the far wall and upon the ceiling. The single door out was hanging from it's hinges, the space beyond a broad hall and staircase.

 

-

 

Outside, she looked back at the building she had just left. The brick work was rotten, the roof caved in on one side.

 

The houses to the left and right were smart, clean, glass whole in the sash windows, front doors shiny with pristine paint, front gardens filled with topiary and pots filled with spring bulbs, rather than a mud and weed filled crater.

 

Juliet sighed, shaking her head at the mystery.

 

With a shuffling and clicking, an old, hunched lady walked past, leaning heavily on two walking sticks, her silver hair balled up in a tight bun. “Excuse me-” Juliet began, but the lady walked on past, no recognition, not even a twitch of her over large ears implying she had heard a thing.

 

The sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the sky in to a lurid mix of peach-orange and coral pink against the powder blue sky. She shivered, the cool breeze causing goose-pimples to erupt across her bare arms.

 

Shrugging, Juliet walked away from the house she woke up in. Looking back briefly from the corner of the road marked 'Roughwood Street' she watched a couple amble past the building, not giving it a first glance let alone a second. A kid, maybe seven or eight years old ran along the road, a tired looking mother some twenty feet behind him, rattling a stick against the wrought iron railings adorning the wall of each garden. Without any conscious thought the child stopped the annoying noise as he skipped past the broken down and ruined red brick house, and started up again when he moved past the boundary on the other side.

 

She was baffled. As the young boy ran past her, still hesitating at the corner, he looked intently at her, grinned and yelled “Nice costume!” as he rounded the corner. The harried mother similarly looked her up and down, and smiled, but said nothing.

 

Juliet decided she needed a drink.

 

-

 

It took a few hours of walking to realise that she has been aiming in a particular direction. As she strode down a dark alley, cluttered with stinking bins, she saw what she had been unconsciously walking toward. It's a club. There was a crowd waiting outside in a line. A heavy, bone aching bass line works it's way up in to the street. London. She's in London. She used to come here. The drinks were cheap and the music was fun to dance to. She came here to get away from her parents. She cannot remember why.

 

She joined the back of the queue, getting some strange sniggers, some revolted and some appraising looks. The music pounding it's way in to the soles of her feet is different to anything she used to listen to. That had been happy. You danced about to it. Everything was candy coloured and the drinks had been sweet. This bass was heavy, dark, brooding.

 

At the front of the line the bouncer looked her up and down and snorted. “There better not be any more of you comin' dressed like that.” He stated grumpily. “Um. No?” She hazarded. The man, who looked like he swallowed a beehive, just raised an eyebrow. “Tenner then.” A tenner? “Er...” She pulled out a purse from the pocket the stick wasn't in and fumbled out some heavy gold coins. None of then had 'tenner' written on them.

 

“What the fuck is that? Are you foreign? For fuck's sake. Fucking idiots coming over here not changing up their fucking money. Go on. Go the fuck in. Free entry for the costume. Good luck getting a fucking drink.”

 

Juliet, completely confused, just nodded and sidled in to the dark, hot, deafening room beyond.

 

Following a well worn staircase down in to the bowels of the building she remembered being painted green and pink, she found the heat oppressive and the reverberations of the beat making her ribcage jump.

 

Pushing through the dirty double doors at the foot of the stairs surprises a gasp from her. The already loud music suddenly blares, making her ears hammer. Before her is a mass of writhing bodies, spinning and bumping against each other. The smell of sweat, beer and the acrid stink of dry ice fills the room. She raised an eyebrow at the strange lack of cigarette smoke. Although she had never smoked, it was something the muggles never seemed to stop doing.

 

Huh. Muggles. What did that mean?

 

She shook her head again, trying to force the memories back. Why could she remember this club, but not why her money apparently wasn't of use, or the word muggle, but not know what it meant?

 

She scanned the room, desperately needing a drink. She could see most of the crowd had plastic cups in their hands, but the bar wasn't where it used to be. It was then that she took in the people, rather than their odd dancing. She had seen punks on the streets when she had run from the family home. There had been the odd goth too. There had been nothing like this though, to her knowledge. Every one was clad in leather or ruined denim. There was little other than black on offer. Spiked studs, too many belts, ripped tights. Piercings and tattoos covered peoples skin. Hair was long and flowing, or short and spiked up. They looked cleaner than the punks and goths she remembered.

 

She thought back to the young couple that had walked past her destroyed home. They hadn't been dressed like these people rocking and jumping on the dance floor. She looked down at her self. They hadn't been dressed that she was either. Acid washed dungarees rolled up around her ankles, green, black, red and blue sling back heels, a white t-shirt with shoulder pads. Her hair was bleached and frizzed up. Without bothering to search for a mirror she knew she had put on bright pink lipstick that morning. Well, which ever morning it had been.

 

She narrowed her eyes. 'Costume indeed.' She scoffed, suddenly angry at how obvious she must look. Standing on the edges of the dance floor she was indeed getting many strange looks, girls with lip piercings and heavy eye liner laughing out right at her.

 

She stomped to the back of the room and turned sharply, eyeing the crowded room again. A song started up, causing everyone in the room to yell, and rush to the dance floor. Soon the sweaty mass was jumping up and down as one, singing along loudly with grins on their faces.

 

_Dead I am the one, Exterminating son._

 

She latched her gaze on to a tall girl with her arms slung across a guys shoulders. With just a thought she copied the girl's beautiful hair. Her blond frizzy mess became a hip length tangle of dark brown loose curls.

 

_Slipping through the trees, strangling the breeze._

 

A man with a huge beard leaning against a pillar had a pair of plain, solid looking slip on biker boots, matte black leather, no superfluous zips or studs. She sunk an inch or two as her sling-backs morphed on her feet.

 

_Dead I am the sky, watching angels cry._

 

Another girl, older with a ripped pair of jeans had on a simple short leather jacket. An asymmetrical zip open at the front, stiff with age. She looked at it critically, and felt her arms clad in a similar jacket, this time with a heavy silver zip down the middle and a buckle, left open, around her waist.

 

_While they slowly turn, conquering the worm._

 

Nothing else appealed. She looked at her self, laughing quietly as she saw her now extremely odd ensemble. With a quick thought and a nod to the couple she had seen walk past her earlier, she switched her dungarees for a form fitting mini-dress in black and opaque tights.

 

_Dig through the ditches,_

_and burn through the witches,_

_I slam in the back of my_

_Dragula._

 

With a last tiny effort she wiped the garish make-up from her face and let some smoky eye-liner rest against her lashes, and with a 'why not' expression, felt a thin silver ring manifest in her nostril.

 

She scanned the room once more, ensuring she wasn't going to garner any more mocking laughs and caught someone eye. Grey eyes staring at her with a mix of open-mouthed idiotic terror and wry amusement filled lust.

 

It was an odd combination to say the least.

 

She had been seen.

 

Doing magic.

 

_Magic._

 

Shit.

 

Shit!

 

They were muggles. You didn't do magic in front of muggles! Her wand! Fuck! Her wand.

 

She smashed her hand against her back pocket that was no longer there, then searched frantically in the many pockets of the leather jacket she now wore. With a moan of relief she closed her palm around the soft, smooth oak wand. Oak with a core of mermaid hair. Highly unusual, temperamental and dangerous in the wrong hands. She adored it. How could she have forgotten she was a witch?!

 

The man with the grey eyes, seemingly having got control of his slack features, advanced.

 

The man swallowed, audibly, even in the ear-drum-piercing environment. “I would have put that down to the drugs, if I had taken any yet.” he said, wild eyed.

 

Juliet said nothing. Fearful of what the Ministry would do to her for exposing their world. But then maybe things are different now, not just the fashions.

 

“Can I get you a drink?” The man asks. He has a tiny smudge of eye-liner under each grey eye, a mop of dark hair, curling slightly under his ears. He has large black discs in his ears. Ripped jeans, a black t-shirt. His cheek bones are high and angular, his nose, bent out of shape a little, a square jaw and wide lips.

 

“Yeah.” She answered on an exhale, nodding, realising that she seriously needed alcohol now, more so than before even a portion of her memories had resurfaced.

 

The man grinned and grabbed her hand. Shit, she thought, he was beautiful. Glinting eyes and dimples.

 

She downed the first beer he handed her, his eyes widened in impressed surprise. He passed her his own untouched plastic cup silently, and Juliet sips this one a little more slowly.

 

A thought crossed her mind, and without thinking of the repercussions, she blurts out “what year is it?” to the grey eyed man. He laughs, looking her up and down, as if imagining her previous outfit. “Twenty-sixteen.” He answered, frowning.

 

“You- Wait. What?!” He just laughed and didn't answer her shrill yelp. She wondered what kind of person this man is who takes her brand of insane so easily.

 

She had been planning on going out to meet muggle friends in April, 1981 at Toby's. Now it was 2016 and she was in the same club, now called The Pit, no longer listening to Ultravox's Vienna but some growling man yelling in to the mic.

 

The guy shrugged and hitched another grin on to his pretty face. Without waiting for her to finish her drink he pulled her on to the dance floor, his hands on her waist, jumping about with the best of them.

 

-

 

Juliet woke up on the floor with a groan. It was fucking freezing, the flat light of dawn lighting the ruined room. Her right side was enveloped in warmth though, and as she tried to move she found her legs tangled with the grey eyed Felix's.

 

Shit.

 

There had been dancing, and drinking, and cute grins, and beautiful eyes and soft hands and breathy whispers. They had laughed in the rain as they walked back to her place. He had stood dumbly outside as she had stepped through the gateway in to the crater of a garden. He had gone saucer eyed and asked where she had gone until she had pulled him through the invisible barrier. She had stumbled up the stairs, dragging him behind her. He had shrugged off the blatant magic and the destroyed building, settling for carefully stripping off her clothes, and kissing every inch of her skin. He had kissed and licked and stroked and made love to her. Under the thunderous rain pounding on the barely intact roof tiles they had fucked hard and fast, then slow and torturous and sensual. He had come deep inside of her while she rode him, then he had surged up, kissing her until she had come too, with a silent scream.

 

“You're beautiful you know.” Felix murmured against her dark curling hair. “Even when you were in the 80's get up. I don't need to know who you are or what you are. You're a fucking mystery, but I'd kinda like the chance to find out all about you if you'll let me.”

 

She shivered at the breath ghosting against her ear where he was curled in to her. She hummed in response, thinking that with him she felt calm and whole, she wanted to smile at his wicked humour and buoy him up. But the lingering doubt of who she actually was? Well that stoped her responding. Maybe she hated grey eyed boys, but she wont know until her memories resurface.

 

“I know we just met. So. Don't answer now.” Felix continues in a whisper. “Can we go get some breakfast? I'm assuming your delightful abode doesn't have fresh milk in it just at the moment?”

 

Juilet laughed. “Sure, although I don't seem to have any money.” Felix shifted against her shivering in the cold morning breeze filtering through the smashed window pane.. “That's cool. I got this.”

 

-

 

Juliet had just shrugged on her leather jacket and was watching Felix struggle with his still rain dampened t-shirt from the night before when three loud 'pop's' interrupted the hungry silence.

 

“What the fuck?!” Felix yelped comically as directly in front of him two wizards and a witch materialised from nowhere. The witch flicked out her wand and pointed it directly at Felix's face. A pulse of yellow light fell from the tip with a 'whump' noise and swallowed Felix up, encompassing him. It paused him as easily as a DVD, gesticulating mid swear.

 

“Juliet Roughwood.” The smarmy sounding wizard at the front of the trio announced, his shining black robes still swirling about his ankles from their Apparition. “We've been looking for you for twenty-five years.”

 

It was at that moment that, despite Felix's information to corroborate the fact, she truly realised that she had been gone for so long. She had one moment, been about the leave the house to go out with friends, and the next, she'd popped back in to existence twenty-five years later, seemingly unchanged.

 

A tiny vain voice at the back of her head spoke up then asking her whether she was really unchanged. Was she just a sad fifty year old dressing like the cool kids in a club. 'Shit' she thought, 'I really have to find a mirror.'

 

“Look at you.” The other wizard spoke up. “Less than twenty-four hours back, and you're already shacked up with a muggle. Your mother and father would be very disappointed in you.”

 

The witch snickered, pushing her green and gold hat back on the crown of her head. She was inching towards Felix in his yellow stasis field.

 

The second man to speak took a breath and pierced Juliet with a stone cold blank stare. “We're here to take you back Juliet. Our master may be gone, but some of us carry on his good works. You belong with us.”

 

Joy coursed through Juliet at his words. Voldemort was gone?!

 

She didn't have time to voice any of her other questions or fears, even to her self, before another series of loud pops filled the tense room.

 

Four witches and wizards Apparated in the broken down room. A wizard grabbed her by the shoulder, a witch threw a bolt of white light at Felix, another wizard grabbed the young man, and the fourth, another witch covered the others, her wand weaving in the air in reaqdiness. With a final glare toward the initial intrusion of three, the new four disapparated with their two new charges.

 

-

 

They appeared a moment later on a bleak, grey moor. The dashing boy holding her shoulder didn't even give her or Felix time to draw breath. Turning toward Felix he stated harshly; “Yes. We do magic. No. We're not going to harm you, but they were. No. We're not joking. Yes. There's a whole world of this shit out there. No. You can't become a wizard, you don't have a drop of magical blood in you. Now shut up.” He turned toward Juliet who flinched back a little. “We found you just in time. You've been under a backfired stasis spell for twenty-five years. Sorry to break it to you. A Stasis spell got mixed with Avada Kedavra, somehow the spells mixed and just shot you out of the world. No one could reach you, we weren’t even properly aware of what happened until you popped back to us. We've had a trace running on you for about ten years I believe.” He stopped to take a much needed breath.

 

A young witch jumped in next. “Sorry about this Juliet. We know this must all be a bit of a blur.” She seemed a few years older than the boy, who looked just out of Hogworts. “We're trying to keep the resurgence under control, and its not going smoothly. They were after you to recruit you I am assuming? They've been trying to recruit members for years, but in the last two or so, their movement has gained more and more of a following. It was a big hit to them when Malfoy told them to go screw themselves, but there are many kids of Death Eaters, and grand-kids now, who are interested in their ways, interested in controlling muggles, in keeping magic for pure bloods. All that old crap all over again. As if we didn't get it sorted out eighteen years ago. Harry Potter won and that should have been that damn it.” She ended her tirade almost muttering to her self.

 

“So, Juliet.” The second witch piped up. She had to be a similar age to Juliet. “We know of your parents. They died I'm afraid, the night you were held captive by that rogue spell. Shortly after that Voldemort was taken down, by a baby named Harry Potter. It took another seventeen or eighteen years for Voldemort to be killed properly, taking down a huge amount of Hogworts, and many good witches and wizards in the battle. Your parents picked the wrong side. We know you had friends in the muggle world. You didn't like your parents. But you never stood against them either. In the fight that killed them, it never become clear which side you had picked.” Her eyes looked a little haunted as she ended her speech.

 

The final member of their team took a breath. “We'd like you to pick now Juliet.”

 

Her eyes flicked toward Felix, hardly seeing him. Barely conscious of the man's bewildered look plastered so nicely across his morning stubbled face, she watched his grey eyes, wide, yes, fearful, yes, but interested, intelligent, with a hint of humour and encouragement to pick the correct route. The one that would allow her to see him again. If she picked the Death Eater route, like her unpleasant parents had before her, she would never see him again. She didn't know if she wanted to give the strange enigma that the muggle was, up yet.

 

“We know you rebelled against the system back then Juliet.” The rakish looking boy spoke up again. “But, things are different now. Although muggles and wizards do not mix openly, we're trying to create a world where there is no stigma. Where a werewolf can have a beer alongside a natural Metamorphmagus, such as yourself, and a muggle born can beat a full blood wizard with their hands tied behind their back. Where a muggle in the know-” Here he nods toward Felix. “And an ex- or un-Death Eater could maybe meet and become friends, maybe more, without anyone batting an eye lid. You could continue to work in the muggle world. You can help them without their knowledge as you did before. You can be good at your job and still be a part of the wizarding world.”

 

Her breath hitched. In the last ten minutes all of her memories had come flooding back. She had been exceptional at potions, and had run a store, selling them to the magical world, but had fronted the shop with a muggle health shop, offering tinctures, powders and potions to those in need. Many worked on traditional herbal law, with just a touch of magic, things just to alleviate symptoms, not enough to arouse suspicion, but enough to truly help her customers and to keep them coming back, swearing she was some sort of witch doctor. She also offered fortune telling and palm reading, but mostly just for fun.

 

Her parents had been caustic to say the least, leaving her home alone in between terms at Hogworts, they had only cared once she had graduated, full honours in potions, and had demanded that she join the family business. The family business it turned out was acquiring dubious magical artefacts to sell in Knockturn alley and on the thriving international black market. Once they thought she was on board they got her to make poisons and potions that could control, harm, incapacitate and injure. She had hated it. But was hadn't been able to leave. She had been about to agree, to become a full Death Eater, to cave to the pressure of years from her parents and their friends, desperate for their approval for once in her life.

 

That was until some members of the Order of the Phoenix and Aurors had barged in to their home, taking dark items lying about and trying to arrest her parents. Death eaters had turned up to help Mr. and Mrs. Roughwood. A battle had ensued in her home, flashes of light in a tense silence had smashed through walls and roofs and then everything had been white.

 

And then she had fallen on to the floor twenty-five years later.

 

“Well, shit.”

 

She looked again at Felix's entrancing grey eyes and quirked up a corner of her mouth, holding out her hand. “coming?” She asked him.

 

His beautiful dimpled grin broke his face in half as he took her hand. The second their hands connected she whipped them away, away from the strange moor they had been standing on. Away from the two witches and wizards hoping for a good answer from her. Away from their confused inaction and shocked expressions. She laughed as they flew down the swirling tunnel of colour as they sped across the world to their destination.

 

Popping back in to existence in a grimy alley in London, Felix looked up confused. “Why are we next to a phone box? I thought all these had been taken away or used exclusively by drug dealers.”

 

She laughed. “Well, I could hardly just go with them could I? That would have been too easy. This my friend is the visitors entrance.” She smiled up at him, “to the Ministry of Magic.”

 

He raised an eyebrow, completely un-fazed, “Can we get breakfast afterwards?”

**Author's Note:**

> The song is Rob Zombie's Dragula.


End file.
